


tell me i'm lying

by seconddaysea



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Gen, Genderfluid Character, genderfluid kageyama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-13
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-14 14:12:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4567545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seconddaysea/pseuds/seconddaysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>
    <span class="small">I remember when we were skin and bone, tough and cruel<br/>but bruises brown and fade away<br/>Someone should have told you that you'd always have a place to go<br/>Someone should have told you that you'd never find yourself alone</span>
  </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	tell me i'm lying

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AndthereIwas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndthereIwas/gifts).
  * Inspired by [How Things Were Meant To Be](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4379723) by [minhoneyboysuga](https://archiveofourown.org/users/minhoneyboysuga/pseuds/minhoneyboysuga). 
  * Inspired by [protect this child](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/137268) by AndthereIwas. 



> I was getting a little emotionally compromised while stalking [Becca's tumblr](http://radio-silents.tumblr.com/tagged/genderfluid-kags) for the thousandth time.  
> This was a minific that went nowhere and everywhere all at once. Zero plot. I don't know. Feels like this needs five thousand more words but I don't have them. 
> 
> *Sticking to he/him pronouns was entirely intentional.

It's hot. 

Summer is oppressive and draining, and his entire body hums with heat. It feels like it takes most of his energy just to try to  _save_  his energy. _Think cold thoughts_ , he reminds himself, and he fans himself with his shirt, feeling sweat gathering on his back and neck, his shoulders hot where he leans against the chain-link fence surrounding the rooftop.

He chases the sound of laughter with his eyes; first year girls crossing the courtyard, arm in arm. One has her hair in a ponytail, the other has knee-high socks, her skirt spinning behind her. They disappear into the shadow of the building and he drags his gaze away, but not his attention. His attention floats. 

"...Do you wanna be a girl sometimes?"

Hinata takes the question as he does everything: in stride. He chews first, then chases his food down with a long pull of juice.  "If I were a girl, who'd protect Natsu?"

Tobio just tilts his head, tapping his straw against his bottom lip, staring off into the distance. There's a heatwave shimmering off the ground just a few feet away, making the rooftop warp and twist.

Hinata continues. "Plus I went to the store the other day and have you  _seen_  how much make-up costs? You can buy a new volleyball just with one of those eye things."

Tobio pulls his straw out of his mouth. "Eye things?"

"The black stuff." He makes a face, holding up a hand like he's got a mirror and opening his mouth. His chopsticks waver dangerously close to his eye, mimicking someone.

"Mascara?"

"I guess. They all have names."

"Mmm."

Hinata curses softly as a bit of rice falls from his onigiri and onto his lap. He picks those up with chopsticks and pops it back in his mouth. "Anyway, what are you asking for?"

Tobio looks at him out of the corner of his eye, then his gaze flickers back up again, drawing constellations in the blue sky, connecting the tips of clouds, thirty pointed stars crossing above him a hundred times over.

He _could_ say it's because he saw those girls just now. He _could_ say it's because he's jealous of their skirts and uniforms. He _could_ say the truth.

"Nothing," he says instead, and it sounds as convincing as it is true.

"You're lying." Hinata levels his chopsticks at him and Tobio feels another splash of heat under Hinata's gaze. "You know when you lie, you never make eye contact. Bet you didn't know that, huh?"

Tobio makes eye contact. "I never lie."

Hinata scowls. "Only cause I told you your weakness. What are those called? Like in poker."

"Weakness?" Tobio suggests halfheartedly.

"No, dummy, there's a special word for it." He pops the rest of his onigiri into his mouth, then starts putting together his lunch box again, stacking the layers, sliding his chopsticks into the compartment on the top. "Anyway, you were lying before."

"I wasn't."

He realizes his mistake before Hinata even speaks, spitting rice as he does. "No eye contact again."

"Shut up." He reaches out and gives Hinata's shoulder a shove.

Hinata laughs, and the tips of his ears turn red. Tying up his lunchbox, he sets it on the side then settles himself against the fence as well, making it rattle. "So." He nudges Tobio in the side with his elbow. "Why are you lying?"

They're close enough that Tobio can feel the heat emanating from Hinata's little body. But side-by-side is a little better than before; no more facial analysis. "Lying about what?"

"' _Do you wanna be a girl sometimes?'_ " Hinata echoes, making an annoyingly stupid-sounding voice.

Tobio's too hot to shove him. "It was just a question."

"Yeah but then you were all, ' _....nothing'_  and that was super suspicious."

"Shut up."

"Kageyama." Hinata leans into view. "Do  _you_  wanna be a girl sometimes?"

"No."

"No eye contact. Do you?"

"No."

Hinata's quiet a second, then his voice goes soft and tingly and when he says Tobio's name again there's a second wave of heat. "Kageyama?"

Tobio doesn't respond, but he makes eye contact.

Hinata leans back and Tobio goes back to studying the heat shimmer, his eyes narrowing until the world is one big waving sheen.

Then, "Kageyama?"

He doesn't respond.

"I don't know what that means."

Tobio squints a little harder, not moving his head. "What what means."

"You want to be a girl?"

His stomach suddenly does a flip and he's not sure why. "That's not it," he says, and he looks at Hinata, still squinting. Then he realizes what he's doing and he abruptly adjusts his face, slouching down and making the fence rattle. "Sometimes, is all," he murmurs into his chest. The milkbox in his hand is already crumpled; he balances it on his stomach, trying to gather his thoughts in this terrible heat and failing.

He doesn't want to look at Hinata; not because he plans to lie, but rather, because he doesn't. He feels like he's on the brink of something, something he hasn't even been able to put a feeling towards, much less words. But somehow, Hinata's sitting and waiting and the patience is so uncharacteristic that maybe Tobio wants to be uncharacteristic too.

"Have you seen dresses?" he asks suddenly, and in his mind's eye he's seeing spinning skirts, long, flowing gowns, sweeping the floor. He clears his throat. "I just. Sometimes wonder what it's like to wear them."

Hinata says nothing and Tobio's come this far already.

He closes his eyes and on the back of his eyelids, he still sees things shimmering and waving. He presses his fingers against his eyes, imagining. "You become a different person with makeup. Lacy things, earrings. And skirts. They swish around nicely. I just wonder what it's like." His expression mars for just an instant, a stray thought crossing his mind. "Not heels. Those look dangerous."

"That's true."

He's almost forgotten Hinata was there. His eyes flicker open and he shadows his face with his fingers, looking up at the boy next to him.

Hinata tilts his head. "What? I'm just agreeing with you."

"But...why?"

"Why do I think heels are dangerous? Well they seem hard to jump in—"

"Why are you agreeing with me?" He interrupts. In a distant corner of his mind, he's aware just how strange the things he has said are. In another corner, he's aware of how strangely calm he is.  _The heat_ , he thinks again.  _That's all it is._ "Why don't you think this is weird?"

"What's weird about it?" 

For a moment, Tobio's heart stutters. There's a ghost of memory nestled inside him that stirs, a feeling that he's been here before. Deja vu. 

But then this is Hinata, and the look on Hinata's face is anything but mocking. His brows are furrowed, his mouth curled into a soft frown at the edges. 

Tobio wonders what it would be like to kiss that mouth, but he decides that's another question for another time. 

"It  _is_ weird, isn't it?" he says instead, and there's something questioning. And something wondering. And something hardly daring to breathe, just for the possibility that Hinata's serious. That he believes there's nothing wrong with him. 

Hinata draws his knees up to his chest, resting his chin on them and puckering his lips. "Maybe there is," he says after a moment, "but how am I supposed to know? Natsu dresses me up all the time. Isn't that the same thing?" To be honest, Tobio doesn't know. And that's strange too, right? Not knowing your own self? 

Hinata continues before he can respond. "But if that's what you want to do, then you should do it." 

"I don't know what  _it_  is." 

"How am I supposed to know?" Tobio can hear the wrinkle in Hinata's nose, "I just don't like people telling me what I can't do. Only  _I_  get to decide what I can't do." 

There's something final to his voice, something decisive and terrifying and comforting, all at once. 

Tobio's quiet, pressing his nail into his milk box. Beside him, Hinata gets to his feet, fussing around with his clothes and brushing dirt off the seat of his pants. He picks up his lunchbag, then extends a hand to Tobio. "Man, today's so hot. Aren't you hot? Why do we even sit out here?" 

Tobio stares at the hand offered to him. Then he takes it and lets Hinata struggle to pull him up, not bothering to do more than anchor his feet in place. By the time Hinata succeeds, Tobio's made up his mind. He straightens his own clothes and drops his rubbish in Hinata's lunchbag. "I have a favor to ask." 

 

\- - - - -

 

"Okay." 

Tobio sits at the edge of his bed, watching Hinata rummage through the bag he's brought, watching him pull out one item after the other. 

"So we have this thing. And then there's this thing. And this one—I think it was called liner. Oh, lipstick. Everyone knows that one. Look, mascara. Natsu threw in these little things too." He dangles a little square earring holder and Tobio holds out a hand. 

He inspects it as Hinata talks. Clip-on earrings, it read, and when he unsnaps one from the holder, it clamps down on his finger. Hastily, he puts it back, placing it gingerly back on the floor amongst the rest of Hinata's spread. 

"Hinata." 

"Honestly, this thing just looks scary to use."

"Hinata." 

"I don't even  _know_  what  _this_  is." 

"Oi. Dumbass." 

Hinata looks up, a gold compact in his hands. 

"What is all this?" 

Hinata shrugs, looking back down at the compact and trying unsuccessfully to get it open. "I don't even know. This must be genius-proof, I can't open it." 

"Idiot-proof," Tobio corrects, before plucking it right out of Hinata's hands and dropping it amongst the rest. "I just told you to come over. Why'd you bring all this?" 

"I thought you wanted to try it. You said you didn't know where to begin so I asked my mom about some stuff—"

"I don't want this." 

"Oh." Hinata glances down at the array of products, looking so strangely disappointed that Tobio felt his chest give a guilty twinge. 

"I mean—" he starts, but before he can say anything more, Hinata makes a face, cutting him off. 

"You should've said something earlier, Bakageyama. I did so well stealing it too. God, and do you know how many times I let Natsu draw on me this past week?" But then, unceremoniously and without a second glance, he throws everything back into the recycled bag and gave it a push aside. "Alright then, master. What's the plan?" 

Tobio struggles to keep his composure. It takes him a few seconds of silence, then he pushes himself up to his feet and stalks to a bag of his own, sitting on the chair of his desk. With stiff movements, he jerks back to the bed, dropping the bag in Hinata's lap as he went. He doesn't wait for Hinata to unveil the contents before he's speaking in a brittle voice that does nothing to keep his anxiety from showing. "I didn't have a lot of time to choose. They were closing soon and the lady at the shop thought I was shopping for my girlfriend. She kept giving me this look—" His own expression becomes pained just at the memory, then he continues, a little more under control. "I didn't know what looks good so you have to help me decide." 

His hands are sweaty and he's feeling strangely faint. He licks dry lips, waiting for the response.

Hinata stands up, hands full of crimson fabric, holding it out and letting it unfurl. 

There is silence. 

Then the boy lifts wide eyes towards Tobio and for a moment, Tobio is afraid Hinata's going to laugh. But then Hinata's mouth opens and Tobio almost wishes Hinata  _had_ laughed. 

"Kageyama, your taste in clothes  _sucks._ "

 

\- - - - - 

 

He smooths it over his lap, the fabric slipping under soft fingers, sliding away from him as light as water. 

"Kageyama, you have to stay still." 

He doesn't respond but he obediently stops moving, letting Hinata take control, resting his head against the back of the wall. His other hands spin circles on the skirt, tracing flower patterns out with a knuckle. 

"Oops," Hinata says. 

Tobio lifts his head, looking under Hinata's arm. There's a streak of dark gray on his knuckle, a stray mark of the pen. 

"Don't worry," Hinata adds quickly. "That'll wash right off." 

"It's not supposed to," Tobio mutters. 

Hinata hums, unaffected. "It's not my fault you used up all of the gray." 

Tobio mutters something unintelligible under his breath. 

"What was that?" 

There's a cheeky grin he doesn't like, and Tobio has to resist the urge to slap the other. "I said I was practicing, alright?"

"But you still stuck. It's okay, that's what I'm here for." 

"Drawing on me with a permanent marker?" 

"You should thank me for finding you this pen in my bag. So rude. Should I stop?" 

Hinata has the nerve to actually pause and Tobio just glares. 

"Oh? You finally trust me now?" He grins over his shoulder as Tobio gave him a jab in the ribs with his elbow by way of response. 

"You really think I don't trust you?" With his left hand, he gestures at himself, long legs stretched out over the bed, the folds of the skirt resting about his knees. 

Hinata sniffs, bending back over Tobio's nails. "It's a figure of speech. Don't make me laugh, alright? I'm nearly done." 

"Mmm." He wiggles his free fingers absently, splaying them against his thigh, a dark gray to match the translucent black of the dress he wears. There are heels on the ground, but Tobio still doesn't know how to wear those. For now they're just for a laugh; because Hinata trying to walk in them is somehow the funniest thing Tobio's ever seen. The thought makes a stray smile pull at his lips, then dissolves into a yawn that he tries to fight back. 

"Alright," Hinata announces. "My best work ever!"  

He pushes Tobio's arm off his knee, capping the black pen and chucking it onto the floor. Tossing himself down onto the bed, he stretches languidly and loudly, propping up his head on his palm and giving Tobio a look.

Tobio doesn't need telling twice. Blowing lightly on his fingers, he rises from the bed, shivering. He moves to the mirror, hands behind his back, eyes drawn to the hem, the flash of skin, almost afraid to look up and see the rest. The dress unfolds as he rises, tumbling over his knees, reaching his shins, spinning around him as he moves. 

As he stops.

He's scared of what he'll see. 

A boy in a dress. 

Long legs, thick hips, broad shoulders. Sharpness and angles and solid thick lines. 

Right now, all he wants to be is soft. 

Then there's a quiet inhale of something laughter and Tobio looks over his shoulder, finds Hinata looking at him, finds orange eyes gleaming, a secret smile spilling out between his black-marked fingers. 

"What?" he chokes. 

"C'mon! Look already!" Hinata is wearing that face. The face.

Tobio takes a breath. 

Then, his eyes rise, taking in the spinning flowers, the smooth waist, the straight hem and the slender straps over his shoulders. He doesn't move. 

"Your hands!" Hinata whispers behind him, and hesitantly, Tobio runs his hands over his waist and takes a step back to see himself in completion. 

He feels like he's crumbling. 

There are pieces of a boy he can still see. Shoulders just a step too broad to be a girl's, too-short hair, a sharp jaw. 

But there is softness too.

There is a curve of a waist, his collarbones smooth and long, and his fingers, itching together in front of him, are tapering and fragile and so gentle it hurts. There are stray penmarks on his knuckles, one on the curve of his wrist. He traces them thoughtlessly, running a hand to his arm and squeezing it until it hurts, just to make sure he isn't dreaming.

He's quiet. 

"What do you think?" 

In the mirror, Hinata meets his gaze excitedly. 

"I like it," Tobio says, glancing back at his reflection.

"Eye contact," Hinata says. 

Tobio grimaces. Then he searches for the word and when he finds it, he says softly, like a loss, "Almost." 

In the edge of his vision, Hinata nods. "We'll figure it out." Then he yawns and flops over, and begins to burrow, sending things cascading off the bed as he shuffles under the covers. 

Tobio wavers, running his hands down the side of the skirt, giving test spins to see what it looked like. Then he turns away from the mirror, moving back towards the bed and seating himself on it. Almost, he says, but this is close. Closer, and closer. He's getting there slowly. His body hums, skin against silk. 

"Are you going to sleep in that?" 

The thought is tempting. But slowly Tobio shakes his head. "Wrinkles," he says, by way of explanation. 

Hinata just gives a sleepy sound and Tobio finds himself looking back towards the mirror. His posture shifts, spine straightening, shoulders back. There's a sliver of skin where the back of the dress dips and he turns, wondering if that's supposed to be appealing. 

"Tell." Hinata says suddenly.

Tobio blinks, looking back at the boy lying beside him. "Hmm?" 

"Tell. That's what they're called. When you give away that you're lying."

"Oh."

"Yep." 

From the corner of his eye, Tobio can see him grinning, face half-hidden by a pillow, eyes slipped shut. 

Why? Was the word that important? 

"You know," he says, "you have lots of tells."

Hinata blinks his sleepy eyes open, the smile still hovering around his lips. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

Tobio hums, studying the boy beside him. Then he reaches out, fingers brushing Hinata's cheek, hand settling on the nook between jaw and throat, where he can feel a little heartbeat thrumming against his palm. He leans in, voice soft. 

"Do you like me?" he asks, and Hinata's eyes widen. Tobio grins. He floats. "Heartbeat," he says, and it drums faster against his fingers. "Like that." 

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://www.saigennaku.tumblr.com)


End file.
